


oh, but you know me too well

by nebulasong



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulasong/pseuds/nebulasong
Summary: Braiding Anna’s hair was a calming way to pass the time.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Kudos: 54





	oh, but you know me too well

**Author's Note:**

> title from nothing but thieves' song 'you know me too well' :) if i was a more poetic person i'd call this 'ode to their sweetness', because honestly that's what i think elsanna's relationship boils down to

Braiding Anna’s hair was a calming way to pass the time. Takes her mind away from worries, just let her feel the seconds pass by, lightly, barely touching her. She braided then unbraided then braided again, upwards and downwards and around her head like a crown, every way she could think of, and Anna lets her. It’s not like Elsa is a talented hairstylist, exactly. The maids do a much better job on her head on days that matter, when they have to attend ceremonies — ceremonies that Elsa now attends to support Anna, less so out of courtesy — but she manages well enough, gets her hands tangled in strands the color of autumn leaves. 

Other days it’s not quite enough to calm her down. On top of Nokk she travels through mountains, gets to places the clouds touch, low and heavy, ready to unleash the rain. Gets to other places, too, freezes portions of lakes so she can stand on them, breathe and breathe and breathe in the air there until even she is aware she’s just worrying too much. It’s not that she doesn’t know she’s prone to it, she does. Both Anna and her have inherited a dramatic bone in their body, it’s just a different bone. For Elsa, it’s probably the cranium.

The air is crisp today. She hasn’t gone far, barely ten minutes from the palace, she’ll be back for supper.

The memory of her nightmare is crisp, too. It’s been the same for the past few months: Elsa, on top of a cliff. Anna on the opposite side, her cliff just as sharp, straight line down, but with more branches and foliage. She probably can’t see the river at the bottom, flowing, angry, deep enough to drown but shallow enough to hit the bottom of it at once falling from this height. There’s a bridge between them on the verge of toppling over, too unbalanced, and Elsa is holding the crown in her hands. The same crown hisses at her angrily if she tries to wear it, burns her hands if she tries to cross the bridge to give it to Anna. Most nights she tries either way, the crescent moon winking at her. All of those nights the bridge breaks. Elsa falls.

  
“Where were you?” Anna asks once she’s back.

“Took Nokk on a walk,” Elsa answers lightly.

She gets a disbelieving look for her trouble. “It’s the third time this week. It’s not a pet, Elsa.” Then, softer, “Is there something you need to tell me?”

Well. That was more direct than she expected. Elsa mulls over the question. “We haven’t had orzo in a while and the crops were good this year.”

Anna stares at her. Elsa stares back.

“Okay,” she concedes. “I’ll ask the cook.”

  
She does ask the cook and the meal is wonderful. Still, Elsa, as she’s been doing too often lately, leaves before nightfall.

❆❆❆❆❆

  
Anna breaks their kiss one night to ask “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

There are not a lot of things Elsa could respond to that, truly. “I’ve known you since you were born,” she says.

A scoff. “Obviously.” Voice whiny. “That’s not what I’m asking. Do you want us to visit each other less? Be, I don’t know”—she makes a gesture with her hand, but as Elsa is lying right below her, her field of vision Anna’s face and Anna’s hair and most importantly Anna’s _face_ , she doesn’t see—”freer.”

“Of course not,” Elsa says. Her hand has snaked under Anna’s nightshirt, absent-mindedly tracing circles. A light breeze enters through the half-opened window, the candleflames tremble, the barely-there moment of shadow enough to hide Anna’s expression. “I’m happy here, with you. Wish I could see you more.”

Anna stops supporting herself, flops down on her chest. “All day, every day?” she asks, voice muffled by the fabric of Elsa’s gown.

Elsa laughs. “All day. Every day.”

“Then why do you keep going? Just stay here and visit the Enchanted Forest twice a week, instead of the reverse.”

She can do that, in theory. Nothing is stopping her. Elsa keeps her fingers moving, circle after circle after circle, then moves from under Anna, first to close the window, finally to sit on the bed.

“Can I braid your hair?” she asks.

Anna is still face down on the bed. She turns her head just so, Elsa can glimpse an eye and the side of her nose. “Maybe. Will you talk to me then?”

“I always talk to you,” Elsa says, but nods right after.

So they’re sat next to each other, all of Anna’s hair in her hands. The light is poor and they’re both tired.

She tugs a little, swallows the small ‘ow’ that comes out. Anna can’t turn around to glare so Elsa places a kiss at her neck, quick. “I’m sorry.” She isn’t. Anna knows she isn’t, if her snort is any indication. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts. “It’s nothing important, really. Have been having dreams, lately.”

“Nightmares,” Anna amends.

“Yes.” That is what they were. “One nightmare, to be specific.” She explains it, as clearly as she can, half her mind finding this all a bit too much. It’ll go away soon enough, she knows. There’s no deeper meaning.

Anna hums, satisfied when Elsa is done, both speaking and braiding. Elsa expects her to add something, anything, but she just gets under the covers, pats the space next to her.

It’s not like she’s going to say no to that.

❆❆❆❆❆

  
She wakes up the next day to breakfast all over the floor. In plates, still, but there’s many of them, from the balcony to the bed to the door. 

Anna is in the middle of setting down the twentieth — or is it thirtieth? — plate. “Good morning!” she chirps, upon seeing Elsa awake.

Elsa blinks. “Good morning. What are… these?”

“A treat. For finally talking to me yesterday.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Of course not! I had to torment you a little, as payback, you see. You left me wondering what was wrong for too long.”

True. “You brought all of these here by yourself?”

“I’m stronger than I look, Elsa,” Anna tells her, mock-offended.

They don’t say anything after that. Elsa is still a bit unsure, a little unsteady on her feet in her mind. She didn’t see anything — dream or nightmare — last night, she didn’t get up halfway through to leave. That is good, on its own, but she feels like there’s something more to say. More to talk about. 

“It’s a nightmare, Elsa,” Anna tells her, as if she can read her mind. “Just that. In this world, I am queen, and you’re getting everything you wanted, being the bridge you were meant to be. There shouldn’t be more to it.”

Elsa doesn’t disagree. She also doesn’t think that will suddenly solve her sleeping issues, although she appreciates how gentle Anna is. How understanding. Always gilded, even when the sun doesn’t have its rays on her.

She nods. “You’re sweet and wise, when did you become that?”

Anna laughs at her, a full belly laugh. “Happened when you were too busy running,” she says, no bite, warmly. “Next time, just wake me up.”

There’s still more to say, Elsa knows, they’ve barely scratched the surface, but this is fine. More than fine, she gets to feel solid. Maybe she can try to wake Anna up, next time. It won’t be a bother.

Small steps, calculated but routine, just like braiding.


End file.
